


The Edge of DOOM

by chase_acow



Category: Doom (2005)
Genre: Apocalypse, F/M, Incest, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The virus spread Hell on Earth, but scattered around, humanity struggles to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Edge of DOOM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cm (mumblemutter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/gifts).



The wind blew up off the lake and swept over the tiny settlement, dropping the temperature close to freezing. Sam grimaced, pulling her collar higher as she tucked her chin down until the breath she blew out caught in the wool and warmed the lower half of her face. This had to be the coldest winter that the outpost had been through in the four years since Hell broke out on Earth.

She surveyed the land they'd cut for themselves out of the mountain and felt a strong sense of accomplishment. There wasn't another group anywhere in the area, but they had radio contact to two other settlements closer to the west coast. Neither of them were as prepared to survive, but then, the others didn't have a former Marine and UAC scientist in charge of operations.

A flash of movement where there shouldn't be any caught her attention instantly and she quickly moved to the other edge of the palisade. She held her breath, straining her eyes against the bleak midwinter background of gray snow against brown trees. There, she saw it again; something too big moving too fast to be a lumbering bear or graceful elk.

Sam pulled the cord that automatically ran the red flag up the pole, its heavy material caught in a gust of wind and flared out in an audible snap. It would be visible from every point inside town, and she didn't need to look down to see everyone instantly drop what they were doing to move to their stations. They were down to half strength since John had taken the rest out on a scavenge mission several days before, and the town was all on edge waiting for their return.

Running down the walkway, she deftly caught the shotgun Kevin threw to her and used the jury-rigged strap to hang it off her back as she quickly bucked a munitions belt around her hips. She took the stairs two at a time, but by the time she hit the bottom her team had already assembled. They hadn't started out life as soldiers, but then neither had she; everyone had to adapt since the Mars virus had escaped from Olduvai.

When he'd gone, John had left both the most seasoned and the greenest people in the outpost behind. Those with her now, had been with them since the beginning, and she didn't have to say anything to them, just nodded once and led the way to the heavy barred west door. They might look like a rag-tag band of outlaws, but at least they were heavily armed bandits. The guards at the door shifted anxiously but held tight to their machine guns as another started unlocking and unbarring the entrance.

"We'll head to the canyon first, and try the deadfall trap," she said quietly, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "John chummed it with entrails before he left, to throw the Imps off our scent. You all know the drill."

As soon as the door opened, she pulled the shotgun up into position, took a deep breath and slipped outside. No matter how many times she did this, even knowing how necessary it was, she couldn't forget that these monsters used to be human.

They always turned out to be their own worst enemy.

* * *

Sam was still in the pit disposing of the body when John's group came back; a ragged cheer went up from the camp, and her heart instantly felt a hundred times lighter in her work. She had to follow protocols even though she'd rather be out in the meeting grounds throwing her arms around John's neck. The Imps started decomposing immediately after they died, and even when they burned, the fumes and waxy fat were toxic. Besides the actual killing, it was the worst job in the camp; usually she or John did it whenever they could.

Hurrying as much as she could without burning her own face off, Sam wondered how she should deliver the news. Even after the last of the Imp had been eaten away by her chemical cocktail, she still had to strip to her skin and take a freezing shower to make sure she was safe to touch others. The extra time didn't give her any answers so it was just as well that as soon as she exited the decontamination room, she walked right into John's arms.

He looked tired, and a little worn down, but he was still handsome enough to make her gasp. His dark features used to fascinate her as a child, similar yet different from her blonde. She noticed that he'd be due for a haircut soon before the ends started curling over the back of his collar. He only let her have a moment to look at him before he bent down to hug her.

"Hi, Sam," he said, face pressed into her wet hair so that she could almost feel the rumble in his chest more than hear the words he spoke. He held her tight, and even through all their layers, she could feel the heat pouring off his body, "Heard you saw some action today."

For a second, she indulged in a wish that things could go back to the way they'd been before the collapse at Olduvai. They'd been kids then, largely ignored by the grown up world around them and free to play in a world of their own making. She still dreamed of those nights curled together telling stories of the adventures they'd go when they were older. Those adventures hadn't ended in blood, death, and regret.

"Nothing my trusty shotgun couldn't take care of," she replied, tilting her head so she could breathe in his warm spicy scent. He'd always been home to her, especially when they had been moved from family to family after their parents died. It had almost killed her when he enlisted, and it'd been years before she spoke to him again. Always close, even for twins, it hadn't really surprised either of them how easy it had been to fall in bed together. "John, I have to tell you-"

"It was Xavier," John interrupted, his voice so low and empty that she had to pull away to look in his eyes. He tried to avoid her by cutting his glance to the side, but a split second was all she needed, "A Knight ambushed us and he got separated. I shouldn't have taken him."

John's eyes could never lie to her; even though he might try to shut down his emotions, his eyes told her that he was hurting. He hadn't reverted back to the stone cold Marine when they'd destroyed the Ark, too late to stop the spread of the virus. Instead, she found her brother again, older and more experienced, but still the funny and caring John that she'd known before. It was only every so often that she caught a glimpse of Reaper still buried deep inside her brother.

"We do what we have to do, John," she answered, grabbing his chin between her thumb and finger while she lifted up on her toes to kiss him quickly. "And we have to keep believing in our humanity. I found Xavier's necklace embedded in the Imp's neck, but I didn't tell the others. They don't need to carry the burden."

This time, he crushed her to him, his large hands spanning across her butt as he lifted her up for a more searing kiss. His beard scratched her skin, but she pressed closer and wrapped her legs around his waist. Instantly, Sam opened her mouth to him, letting John take control while he needed something to feel other than the helplessness of losing another friend. They took turns giving what the other needed most.

A not so discrete cough made them pull apart only a minute later. She kept her arms around John's neck though he lowered her back to the floor as they looked over. One of the teenagers whose job was to run messages stood just to the side, red faced and staring at the ground.

Clearing his throat, John rubbed against her one last time before pulling away. "What can we do for you, Ashley?" he asked as if he hadn't been just a second away from dropping down in the dirt for a quick roll right there.

"Grant wants to know if you want to divide up the supplies now or wait for morning," Ashley repeated, nervously looking at them before sliding her eyes away again.

Sam couldn't resist grinning, most of the school aged girls had crushes on John. They followed him around the outpost just hoping that he'd give one of them a little attention. John, being a man, was completely oblivious to it all and wrinkled his brow when he asked why they were always underfoot and she just laughed at him. After everything they'd been through, it'd take more than a teenager to make her feel insecure about their relationship.

"Morning sounds real good," John answered, threading his fingers with hers. He didn't particularly enjoy leading the outpost, but he'd grown into the position, keeping them all as safe and happy as anyone could reasonably expect. "In fact, everyone but the sentries has the rest of the day off. I'll make it up to them later."

"Yes, sir," Ashley perked up and tossed off a cheeky salute before she turned and ran off back to the building they'd designated as storage.

"Hmm," Sam pulled John down for another kiss, running her thumb over the corner of his mouth. He'd been gone for almost a week, and she hated sleeping alone in a cold bed. She buzzed with the need for him to touch her, "Sounds like we've got some time to kill. Any ideas?"

John laughed, the grim shadow that he carried with him falling away, and tugged her to fall in step with him. "Well," he paused as if considering, "I do need to clean my guns."

She punched him in the shoulder and pretended to scowl, "That had better be a euphemism, mister."

"Guess you'll have to come back to the room to find out if I'm a Marine or a poet," John teased, breaking into a jog when she tried to trip him.

The world might be ending, but she had him and that was all she needed.


End file.
